Chapter 1

The 77th Hunger Games

All the spectators were silent. Literally millions were crowded in or around the town square of the Capitol. Although their silence was one, their thoughts were far from it. Some were obviously silently cheering, while others wore the most forlorn, confused expressions you could ever imagine. Some of which--no--most of which, owned a quibblo account. You see, quibblonians are so lost in their writing that they don't realize the world they live in. They don't realize that Suzanne Collins almost died trying to publish her first book during the 76th Hunger Games. They don't realize that Peeta and Gale actually exist.

Anyway, my point is, we do now. Every one of you is standing in the square with wide eyes, listening in horror to the announcement.

"Welcome to the reaping of the 77th, and final Hunger Games. We will only be reaping 13 tributes, as we aren't as cruel as previous presidents of Panem. This year's Hunger Games will give the 'peacekeepers,' who terrorized the districts, and the Residents of Panem, who spent their time celebrating the Games, instead of stopping the barbaric sport, a taste of our suffering."

The sound of four clapping hands came from behind Paylor. Katniss stood, as stony-faced as any Quibblonian had ever imagined her. "Thank you, President Paylor. Peeta and I have thought long and hard about this, and it seems like the best thing for our country. When those from the Capitol have seen the horrors of the Hunger Games, I'm sure you'll all never want it to happen again. Here's Peeta, with the reaping."

Peeta stepped up to the microphone, holding a fish bowl with tiny paper slips stuffed inside. There had to be thousands, inside. With a smile and a wave with his free hand, he spoke. "The rules are, as you can imagine, very different from other years. We are not reaping 12 girls and 12 boys, but 13 Capitol residents at random, regardless of gender. Now, there are so many of you that we decided to narrow things down a little..."

With a click, his finger pushed a button that illuminated a projected screen behind him. "This is quibblo, a website for creating quizzes and stories. When we looked into fan fiction, a stunning amount of Hunger Games fanfics appeared from this website.

He swiped his hand through the air, operating an invisible mouse, and clicked the search button. hunger games was typed into the search bar already.

Over two hundred pages of fanfics popped up. The first one listed was titled The Wily One: A Foxface Fan Fiction.

Peeta clicked, pausing to allow the crowd to read. A certain audience member released a gasp of excitement, delighted, despite the circumstances, that all of Panem was beginning to read something she wrote.

"Enough," Peeta said, pushing the button again to power the screen off. "These pieces of writing humiliate tributes in the 75th and 76th hunger games, and make the Hunger Games seem like an enjoyable game similar to Scrabble, or Risk. The crimes of these quibblo users must reap it's reward."

Peeta was no longer smiling. He reached a hand into the bowl. "We also won't interview the tributes, as Ceasar Flickerman is dead. We will not dress them up in stupid costumes, or have any parties before the games begin. They will learn survival skills for three days, and then go to the arena."

With that, he seized a slip of paper, and read.

"Crazy4Cookies."

A murmur went through the crowd, mainly consisting of the mouths of quibblonians. He was calling them by their usernames? More than a few hoped they wouldn't be reaped, purely because of the silliness of their username.

A fairly average girl with long, dark brown hair and bright blue eyes stepped bravely forward. Her face was pale with fear, and she was silent. As she approached the stage, Peeta shook her hand. None of the other Quibblonians volunteered. A small voice trembled, "No, Clover! Come back!" ...it sounded like a younger sibling.

Katniss shook her hand, and the girl glanced at her shyly. Meeting the protagonist of a book was exciting, even if they were about to condemn you to the Hunger Games. Katniss seemed to be transfixed by the little girl's voice, as if remembering something.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"Clover Lazensa," she replied automatically, standing there awkwardly as he turned away to draw the second name.
"Sit down over here," Katniss whispered gently, gesturing towards a row of thirteen chairs on the side.

"Wolves Anonymous," Peeta shouted. Nobody moved.

"...Wolves Anonymous?" He repeated. A tall with frizzy blonde hair and a scar on her lip stepped forward, not even trying to keep back her tears.

After she'd said her name and taken her seat, Peeta announced a few more:

"Larastraw!" (The girl was short, but wore a mask of indifference.)
"Poetrygirl 16!" (A very tall, rather pretty girl came up to the stage, staring at Peeta with wide green eyes.)
"Starfree!" (Another tall girl, with spiky brown hair and silver eyes tripped over a loose board, and came up scowling.)
"Dialga the Knight!" (A boy this time, with blonde hair poofing out in all directions. He laughed nervously and adjusted his glasses when Peeta and Katniss greeted him.)
"The Perkiest Walllflower!" (An athletic blonde, who shook her head in confusion and gave Katniss her copy of The Hunger Games, muttered something like 'I'm dreaming.')

"Faux Hawk?"

Peeta shouted it twice more before a bold looking girl listening to headphones in glanced up. "Huh?"

"Quibblo user Faux Hawk please come onstage!"

For a moment, she looked furious, then went completely silent. Her mutinous glare, when she shook his hand, made him avoid her eyes. With a venomous glance at the crowd, she took her seat.

"Awesome ok 1!"

Several adults burst into tears, making it clear that the tall, wirey boy standing in their midst was 'awesomeok1'. He came up, wearing a look that made it seem like he was deep in thought.

"Red gone Blue!"

Silence. Peeta waited for several seconds, before saying it again. "Red Gone Blue!"

Nobody was coming, and for a moment it seemed like they never would, but a dark red mop of hair popped up among the mass. "Let--me--go!"

Another person, likely a former district dweller, had her arm locked with theirs so tightly it was turning red. "Ow! Ow!"

Her fight fell down, and she stood there in defeat, realizing almost everyone was staring.

"Go on," the man, who looked like he came from district 12, grunted. She turned her head, as if contemplating escape, but he gave her a little shove, and Red Gone Blue came stumbling forward, swallowing fear.

"Hello," she grinned, although it was a fake, and rude grin. She hated it. She hated that she was picked, out of thousands, maybe even millions of users. And the anger was an emotion she used to cover the terror.

Peeta shook he hand, but didn't grin back.

Finally, there was only one more name to draw. His hand snagged the one on the very top, and he set the fishbowl down, clearly relieved.

"Hermione's Evil Twin!"

A tall blonde with grey-blue eyes gave herself away by freezing. The most to smacked expression hung on her face. She wasn't looking at anyone in particular as she stared, but people nearby could have sworn they could see the movement in her chest, where her heart was beating.

Suddenly, the tension released, and the girl opened her mouth to say something, shaking her head. Now, it just looked like she was amazed, and even a little amused.

She made her way through the crowd, arriving at the stage in a daze. As Peeta shook her hand, she hardly returned the shake.